A Friend In Need
by RobertDowneyJrLove
Summary: Set after 'Iron Man 3'. After everything with Aldrich Killian, each of the Avengers pay a visit to Tony and Pepper. And they may just teach Tony the value of friendship in the process.
1. Steve Rogers

There's a line of stitches criss-crossing down his chest. The skin is puckered and light pink, stretched and stitched almost to its capacity. The human skin has natural elasticity but a miniaturized arc reactor pushed the boundaries of the skin's natural suppleness. It's this almost unnatural stretch of his skin and the pull of tightly laced stitches that make Tony Stark's recovery more uncomfortable than painful. It's the kind of discomfort that he thinks he can deal with until he tries to go to sleep and his mind immediately zones in on it. It makes sleeping near impossible, which actually, wasn't saying much because he's never been a real big sleeper anyway. He had always been plagued with chronic insomnia but this was pushing it. He finds himself having to find something to do to keep his mind off of how uncomfortable his chest felt - there were now working prototypes of JARVIS for each of the Avengers' floors in his tower.

He's even customized each prototype to the personality of his teammates. He's done all of this out of boredom and possibly because, even with Pepper there, he starts to feel quite lonely in his recovery process. Pepper can't be there all of the time, having to over-see the construction at Stark tower and ensure all of the workers got paid on time. There is no new Iron Man prototype to work on because he's destroyed all of the damn things and he's grown quite tired of building them, just to destroy them. He mostly lounges on the couch, trying to watch mind-numbing television but he can't seem to focus on it. He's a genius and a bit of a playboy, the only thing that made his mind go numb was the stupidity of would-be scientists and sex, and even that wasn't guaranteed.

Needless to say, he's quite relieved when he gets a visitor. Pepper is at work, having to run Stark Industries in both New York and L.A. from one office - and a small one at that - using her laptop and cell phone. He's relaxing on the couch, a pillow hugged to his chest and his eyes almost closed when JARVIS alerts him to someone's presence at the door. He mindlessly orders JARVIS to let them in, trying in vain to achieve some semblance of sleep again. His mind is drifting back into the black swirl of unconscious sleep when a smell draws him back.

Oh good Lord.

Shawarma.

Whoever came to visit him is a god, or at the very least, his new best friend. His brown eyes peel open, searching for the person in the room. He finds who he's looking for and isn't really all that surprised to see Steve Rogers leaning over his coffee table, digging through a bag of shawarma. After New York, they had developed a mutual respect for each other and Steve's introduction to Pepper had immediately resulted in Steve developing his own fondness for the red-head and having more faith in Tony's humanity.

"Hungry, Stark?" Steve turns to him, a styrofoam container in hand along with a sizable styrofoam cup. "Chicken shwarma, with everything but pickled turnips and gherkins, hot chili sauce and an extra side of french fries. Oh and a lemonade."

"Pepper called you, didn't she?" Tony narrows his eyes suspiciously at the man, even as he accepts the food offering Steve is holding out to him.

"No." Steve shakes his head, retrieving his own food - which is basically Tony's order but with beef instead of chicken. "Fury told us what happened with you two and Killian. I came by to see how you were doing and I passed the shawarma place on the way, thought you might be hungry."

"You think right. I'm always hungry." Tony laughs and covers his wince with a sip of his drink. Ouch. It really hurt to laugh, what with the stitches and all. The chicken shawarma is still warm and the hot chili sauce mixes deliciously with the crisp, fresh vegetables.

"So, how does it feel to not have that arc reactor?" Steve inquires, genuinely curious. His question brings about silence, except for the crunch of vegetables but he knows Tony is trying to work out how to answer such a question. He knows Tony well enough to know that he tended to work things out in his head and only vocalize them when he was sure about something. Yes, Tony does like to talk and most of the time it is non-sensical babble but Tony is sharp and when asked a question, can provide a thoughtful, serious answer.

"Like I shouldn't have lived with it for as long as I did." Tony breathes quietly, leaning forward to set his container down on the coffee table and swipe a napkin from the bag. He wipes his fingers and his mouth before speaking again. "I lived with it because I thought I had too. I thought it was the only thing keeping me alive but I realized quickly that it wasn't doing anything but keeping me connected to Afghanistan and causing trouble."

Steve swallows and sets his own food down, his sharp mind forming a response; "You flew a missile into outer space to save us all. You don't cause trouble. You prevent it."

"Then why couldn't I prevent Killian?" Tony's voice is razor sharp but Steve can hear the cracks in his tone. The intonations of pain and of guilt, a burden that Tony had been carrying around for a long time. "Why couldn't I -"

"Because Killian was trouble no one saw coming." Steve keeps his voice level and calm, not wanting to upset the man anymore. "Killian is the kind of trouble SHIELD didn't even know existed. For all SHIELD knew, he was dead. He fell off of the map twelve years ago."

"I rejected him. His idea, it was reckless. Science can't be reckless." Tony shakes his head, looking anywhere but directly at Steve. "He was out of his league with his own ideas. I didn't know that he'd refine it down until he created a human bomb."

"What was his idea?" Steve asks him softly.

"Regeneration." Tony informs him, "A higher tech version of what they used for you. Instead of a serum, it's a virus. It attaches to cells. Changes them. It was a good idea but at the time he presented it to me, it wasn't refined enough to work."

"He was trying to recreate the serum? So how'd he end up with a virus that turns people into bombs?" Steve questions, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Tony sighs and scrubs his face with his hands; "That's what I had to figure out in order to detox Pepper from it. Attaching it to the cells is easy enough but reversing the effect is something else. I had to detach the virus but not kill the existing cells or kill her. He essentially reprogrammed an existing virus, like a hacker programs a computer virus."

"So how did you do it?" Steve queries, reaching for his drink.

"Pepper's immune system." Tony picks up his container and ravishes what's left of his shawarma and fries. "It's a complicated thing."

"You did all that you could, Tony." Steve reassures him gently, already knowing that he's pushing it. Tony suffers from anxiety and Steve is trying his best to avoid sending him spiralling into a panic attack. "You have to know that."

"I know," Tony nods, blinking rapidly in a haphazard attempt to hide the tears in his eyes. His voice betrays him though; it conveys every single bit of vulnerability that he had been feeling since Aldrich Killian decided that him and Pepper were play-things. "I know."

"You know, when your body can heal itself and prevent you from getting drunk, you start to feel like maybe you should have taken another direction in life." Steve isn't sure where he's going with this but he needs to take Tony's mind off of Killian. "But then, a little detour into a new century leads you to some of your best friends and you realize that whatever direction your life is headed in, is the right one because nothing compares to friendship. I lost Bucky, Tony. He's gone but I gained six new friends."

"What are you trying to say, Rogers?" Tony's voice is sharper than he intended but Steve just brushes it off.

"I'm saying that whatever happens next, whatever is next for you and Pepper, it won't happen without the Avengers." Steve smiles when Tony's eyes brighten considerably. "We have your back, Stark. I know that's hard for you to believe but you brought this team together and however our lives play out, we're bound together by what we've done. What we've seen. There is nothing that will ever keep us from defending each other. Nothing."

"Steve - "

"We've still got one hell of a story left to tell, Stark and I don't know about you but I'd like for my story to include my best friends." Steve grins at him earnestly. "We're behind you, Stark, one hundred percent."

"Thanks, Captain."

"I've got to get back to SHIELD, Natasha's away on a mission and I told her I'd be there when she got back." Steve pats Tony's shoulder and stands up from the couch. "You take care of yourself, Tony. Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk."

"I will, Steve." Tony nods, "Thank you."

"It's no problem, Tony."

Steve slips out of the penthouse and meets Pepper in the corridor as she returns home from work. There's a question forming on her lips but he answers it with a nod and a smile. That's all she needs. She squeezes his arm as he passes and mouths a silent, 'thank you' as she continues into the apartment. He knows it's not going to be easy for Tony and Pepper. There will probably be more stress that they don't need and more work that they have to get done but he knows that they'll be alright. Tony Stark was one of the strongest men he knew and with one of the strongest women Steve had ever met, by his side, Tony would be fine.

* * *

**So welcome to my new story! I'm going to have all of the Avengers visit Tony. I was going to have it be one long story but this turned out longer than I expected so I'm going to break it down into chapters. Anywho, hope you like it! Leave me some love, Dolls! **

**Love ya, **

**RobertDowneyJrLove**


	2. Clint Barton

Dum-E is his favorite robot and it's for this reason that he decides he has to fix it first. Dum-E was the first robot he built and over the years, there had been several changes made to the robot, to help it evolve and adapt to the Tony Stark lifestyle. The robot is the engineering equivalent to Tony's baby and as such, Tony tends to baby it more than his other robot, You. The living room of his penthouse serves as his workshop with the couch pushed back to the far wall, underneath the bay window that looked out over the entirety of Manhattan and the coffee table flipped upside down on top of it. This is the only room in the house spacious enough for him to spread out as much as he desires and truly focus on the task at hand. He's never worked well with clutter and the first time he tried to work anywhere else had failed miserably because he wasn't able to spread his tools and parts out and take stock of what he had.

Pepper is at work, after a bad morning following an equally as bad night. Anxiety and nightmares haunted her just as much as they did him and he wishes a thousand times he could go back and find a way to keep her out of his fight with Killian. He had tried to convince her to stay home, that she was in no shape to go to work but she had insisted so he insisted on getting her to work his way. A quick call to SHIELD had Nick Fury sending two members of the Avengers team to escort Pepper to work. The sight of Captain America showing up, fully costumed and ready to use his SHIELD against any threat alongside a Mjolnir wielding Thor, in his full regalia had made Pepper laugh hysterically. Despite how silly it would probably look for a businesswoman to be escorted to work by two men, one dressed in a flag and one who looked as if he was straight out of a Shakespeare novel, it made Tony feel better knowing that the love of his life would be safe with the two men he had come to trust more than anyone.

Tools spilled out of an over-stuffed toolbox and the living room floor is littered with various parts. Dum-E is laid across his lap while he worked on the exposed wires and maneuvered carefully around the burnt, broken metal. Except for the music playing and the tinkering of various tools, nothing could be heard in the penthouse. He can feel the robot thrumming back to life with each wire that's fixed and each piece of metal that's replaced.

_"There seems to be one Clint Barton at the door, Sir." _

"Let him in, Jay."

The music is shut off in favor of human interaction - was it really human when the other person's nickname was a species of bird? He makes no move to get up, despite the tension that's binding the muscles in his back and shoulders. This is the only position he's found that both allows him to repair Dum-E wherever the robot needed it and relieves the pull of the stitches in his chest. He taps a nervous, slightly perplexed rhythm on the robot's burnt metal. Hawkeye rarely spoke, let alone came to visit anyone. What on earth could he possibly be doing here?

"Stark," Clint Barton leans up against the doorframe casually, holding up the white plastic bag. "Miss Potts sent me with lunch. She told me that if you didn't forget to eat, you'd try to cook and if that happened, you'd be rebuilding two houses."

"So much faith, I swear." Tony chuckles, looking up from the crackling wire he had been engrossed in. "Is it shawarma?"

"No. Thai." Clint looks down at the bag, filled with styrofoam containers. "I am also supposed to relay the message that she'll be home early."

"I'm not supposed to do any heavy lifting and usually, by the time I remember I need food, Pepper's already here so could you?" Tony feels awkward asking him to do something, given that they barely know each other, but the doctor had given him strict orders to not do any heavy lifting until two weeks after the stitches came out.

A quick trade-off leaves Tony holding a bag of Thai food and Clint carefully lifting the long robotic arm off of his legs and shifting it to the floor beside the engineer. It takes Tony a few minutes to regain stability, having lost some feeling in his legs from the heavy metal. When the tingling numbness leaves his legs - Lord, that felt good! - he leads Clint into the kitchen and begins unpacking the bag of food. Clint's sharp eyes take in every movement and even some subtleties in his behavior that would make the likes of Sherlock Holmes jealous. Like the way the billionaire puts his hand to his chest, unconsciously, as if searching for the warm blue light of the arc reactor.

"Still not used to it being gone?" Clint inquires, keeping a calm neutrality about him - curiosity killed the cat and he knows not to push it too far with Tony Stark, the poster-child for Post Traumatic Stress.

"I'm getting there." Tony shrugs, fiddling with the lid of the styrofoam container. His face is tense; smooth forehead, rigid brows and cheeks sucked in ever so slightly. He's still rolling it around in his head, the fact that he doesn't have the arc reactor and it seems to just play into the anxiety that plagues him. "Sometimes, I look down and I'm relieved that I'm not a human nightlight anymore, y'know? I don't literally light up an entire room, anymore. But then, sometimes, I go to sleep at night and I wonder if I'll wake up the next morning."

"But you do..." Clint tries to be reassuring; which, even at best, still makes him cringe because he's never been good at human interaction. He much prefers watching and listening over interacting.

"Anyone ever told you, you suck at reassurance?" Tony grins wryly at the archer, meeting the sharp blue eyes of the only man who could actually kill him with his hands behind his back.

"I prefer observing. I do my best work from up high." Clint laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You know that."

Tony just laughs and slides a container of food across the expanse of marble that made up his kitchen island. They keep a careful distance from each other but the truth lingers between them; that if they would just talk, if one of them would just open up, they would find they have a lot in common. That they aren't so different. The archer knows what it's like to have someone play in his brain and Tony knows what it's like to feel isolated, to feel like you're never really part of a team. But, they're both stubborn and neither of them are willing to open up so they eat in silence, barely sparing a glance at one another.

"I hate to eat and run but if I don't get back soon, Fury might use my own bow and arrow against me." Clint laughs, tossing his empty container into the garbage bin at the end of the counter. "Stark, we're only one call away if you need us."

"I know." Tony nods at the SHIELD agent. "Thanks, Legolas...I mean Agent Barton."

"My name's Clint to my friends." Clint tells him casually, heading for the door.

"Then call me Tony."

With a nod of acknowledgement, Clint slips out of the door and heads back to the SHIELD headquarters. His visit hadn't been much more than a simple drop off of lunch from Pepper but somehow, Tony knew just by having the archer around that he had a lifelong friend in Clint Barton. Perhaps, it was time to drop the Legolas moniker and truly get to know the man behind the bow and arrow. Perhaps it was time to discover what he thinks he already knows.

That him and Clint Barton are a lot alike.

* * *

**I know. What a let-down. Not worth the wait but honestly, this was the hardest one to write and anyway, didn't the image of Captain America and Thor escorting Pepper to work make it worth it? I hope! Lol! Clint Barton, you are such a damn enigma, I had no idea how the hell to write you! So there! He's such a damn mystery that I couldn't really get a firm hold on his character. So I'm sorry. The next one will be better and no, they will not all bring him food. It just worked out that way. **


	3. Bruce Banner

It was commonplace to find Pepper Potts milling about in the kitchen, doing one thing or another while her latest culinary creation sizzled or bubbled or browned. Tony Stark has learned to appreciate this about her because his recovery had lent itself to several rough days and it was on those days that he was treated to the divine deity of all foods. Her blueberry pancakes. He likes to think himself well-rounded when it comes to food and having tasted just about every blueberry pancake out there, he can safely say that none of them came close to those he was treated too at home. It was a deliciously gooey and sweet concoction of blueberry chunks, fluffy pancake dough and a pool of melted white chocolate chips in the center. And they were truly something to be admired, worshipped even.

She's making them now.

For no other reason than Tony's hungry and she knows he likes them. He's quite content to lean against the doorframe of the kitchen, a tender and adoring smile on his face as he watched her move around the kitchen like a trained professional. It's during this quiet moment that he takes a moment to truly appreciate the beauty of his best friend. At first, she had been guileless and naive in a magnetic sort of way. Oh, how he had wanted her at first, make her another notch in his bedpost. She was far too sassy and brash for that though and it didn't take him long to learn that. She had quickly shot him down, almost robotic in a way. He had taken an immediate liking to her and everyone knew it, after she survived past the three day mark. He just hadn't known at the time how long their relationship would endure or how often strawberry curls and baby blue eyes would invade his thoughts.

"Tony," The whisk pauses in the bowl and her blue eyes find him lost in thought, as the British voice of JARVIS rings through the penthouse once more. "Tony, there's someone at the door."

"Who is it, Jay?"

_"Bruce Banner, Sir." _

"Let him in, Jay. He's good." Tony orders his AI, making a mental note to set up Pepper's voice control within the penthouse. "Tell him where to find us."

Pepper went back to whisking her pancake batter while Tony continued to watch and Bruce Banner was directed to the kitchen. He appears tall but relucant, draping himself on the doorframe just as Tony had a few minutes before. His graying black hair is unkempt but his clothes - gray slacks and a dark blue dress shirt - are pristine and wrinkle free. Pepper notes the dark circles under his eyes, similar to the ones Tony usually sported, and wonders how much, if any, sleep Bruce Banner is getting.

"Hello Doctor Banner," Pepper greets warmly, slicing a pad of butter from the stick and dropping it onto the screaming hot skillet. "I'm just making me and Tony some breakfast. Join us. We're having blueberry pancakes."

"Sounds delicious." Bruce smiles, dropping his worn messenger bag and moving further into the kitchen. His smooth gait keeps his footsteps silent, even on the tile floor. He keeps his head down and his shoulders slumped forward, as if he's attempting to make himself appear smaller somehow. "It's been a while since I had anything not made in SHIELD's kitchen."

"Then, you must have Pepper's blueberry pancakes. They're to die for." Tony grins in excitement, his eyes intently focused on the thick batter in the skillet, sizzling to a golden brown in the light coat of butter. "She makes the best."

Pepper's lips curl into a soft smile at the compliment and a pretty watercolor red flush stains her cheeks. Bruce notices her modesty, the way she takes the compliment with a quiet grace. It's refreshing to see a modern businesswoman so humble and soft but still strong. She's real and he understands why the whole of SHIELD adores her. She is someone worthy of admiration, whether she would see it that way or not. He suspects she is a lot of the reason Tony acts the way he does; why he's subdued his arrogance.

"Tony, get us some plates, please?" Pepper requests of him softly, flipping a pancake.

"Yes, dear."

Tony retrieves plates, silverware and coffee mugs while Pepper finishes up breakfast. Tony pours the coffee and leads him into the dining area, brightly lit by the mid-morning sun and sparcely decorated. Tony sets the table and motions for him to sit down while he helps Pepper carry breakfast. An ungodly number of blueberry pancakes are stacked on a plate, cooked to perfection along with enough bacon to feed an entire third world - and he knows of them from experience. There's a bowl of cold whipped cream, butter and a carafe of syrup.

"Help yourself," Pepper smiles invitingly. "There's plenty."

He alternates pancakes and butter until he's achieved the perfect stack of pancakes. A light drizzle of syrup and a few pieces of bacon are all he needs to go with them. Oh. Dear God. These pancakes should be classified as works of art. Then again, just about anything was better than SHIELD food, but he thinks these might be better than anything he's ever eaten. There are very few instances in which Tony is not exaggerating something and this is one of those times.

"You weren't exaggerating, Tony. These should be classified as works of art." Bruce compliments smoothly.

"So, Doctor Banner, what brings you by?" Tony inquires casually, reaching for a napkin.

"Wait," Pepper clasps Tony's wrist, smiling over at him. "That's syrup. You're just going to make the stickiness worse. I'll get you a damp paper towel."

"Thanks, sweetheart." Tony smiles up at her, watching her disappear back into the kitchen. "Hard to believe that's the same woman who was up almost all night with anxiety."

"Her too?"

"Ever since Killian...sleep has been.." Tony's voice evaporates into nothing, his eyes shifting to his lap. He tilts his head and meets Bruce's eyes once again. "Me and Pepper...we don't sleep much. I've tried to get her to go to the doctor, get a sleeping pill so she isn't going to work without sleep but she won't do it."

"She doesn't need a sleeping pill. She needs anxiety medication." Bruce tells him softly, "You both could use it. The anxiety medication would help you sleep."

"I don't know -"

"Tony, you told me the whole story of you and Killian." Bruce points out. Wait. No. Actually, he had fallen asleep somewhere in there. "Okay so I didn't listen to all of it but you told it to me. I don't know that much but I do know that you need something to help with this."

"He kidnapped her...Pepper. He in - " Tony trails off helplessly, blinking back the tears welling in his eyes. "I..I better not."

"It's alright." Bruce shakes his head, staring at Tony with the analytical gaze of a doctor. "You don't have to say anything. But I do want you to see a doctor. Or ask the doctor in charge of those stitches in your chest. Neither of you can go on like this much longer, Tony."

"I know." Tony nods, "And so does she."

"Then let a doctor help you." Bruce pleads with his friend, "You and Pepper are my friends."

"Can you help us?" Pepper's soft inquisition draws Bruce's attention upward.

She's standing just behind Tony, wringing a paper towel between her hands and in her eyes, in that sharp blue gaze, he can see hope. Hope that somebody can help them. He doesn't want to disappoint because he knows how badly they both need this so he nods and assures her that he can; "I'll talk to SHIELD. See what I can do."

"Sweetheart," Tony tilts his head to look at her, even if it is upside down. "Are you sure?"

"Tony, we need to do something." Pepper tells him gently, brushing his forehead with her hand. She takes her place beside him and hands him the paper towel before meeting Bruce's eyes again. "Doctor Banner, we just need rest."

"I know." Bruce nods, curling his lips into an easy, sympathetic grin. "I know. I'll get you both something to help."

"Thank you."

"Well," Tony interrupts awkwardly, his brown eyes darting between them. "Can we finish breakfast?"

Bruce and Pepper just laugh and nod, if only to appease the always impatient and hungry billionaire. Whether he knows it or not, and he's humble so he probably doesn't, Bruce Banner has just given Tony and Pepper the first little spark of hope they've had since he was held hostage in a cave for three months in Afghanistan. Just by promising to help, he's given them something to hold onto, something that will ebb away the tension and anxiety that seems permanent, sometimes. Something that will give them both the rest they need.

Which is why, despite his intial reluctance, they both give him a hug when he starts to leave.

* * *

**So, once again, Bruce Banner...little bit hard to keep in character but I knew the basics of his personality. Casual, observational and smart. The smart's pretty obvious, if you've seen the Hulk movies - I have not, don't shoot me - and the Avengers movie. I kept the casual but observational part of him which led me down the path of him being both a friend and a doctor for them. Visiting with them and joining them for breakfast as a friend but as a doctor, noticing that they both need help. I'm terribly sorry if I've gotten him wrong. I'm pretty new to Bruce Banner but I like to think I did pretty well. If you think I didn't and you know how I can make him more in-character, message me and help me. Lol! Leave me some love, Dolls! **

**Love ya, **

**RobertDowneyJrLove **

**P.S. If you haven't already, I recommend you do some research on Mark Ruffalo. Seeing some of what this man has lived through makes him admirable and his role as the strongest superhero is all the more appropriate when you read about him. **


	4. Natasha Romanoff

He feels like crying.

Like not just letting a few tears, but collapsing into a crumpled up heap and breaking down into helpless sobs. It's horrible and it makes his eyes sting and his throat hurt. He isn't even sure why he feels like this, like his world is crumbling around him, but he can't ignore it. Nightmares plagued him the night before; he can't count on both hands the number of times he woke up in a cold sweat and nauseated from the atrocities of his dreams. Most of them revolve around one thing, Pepper. Aldrich Killian killing her with Extremis, pushing her to the absolute limits until she becomes a human bomb. Her actually dying from the fall or in the fire. Her tortured screams as Extremis took over her body.

The pain.

The fear.

It's all there, in his dreams, and it hurts. Really hurts him and he guesses it always would. She had become his lifeline, the only thing that made his life worth living and to lose her, would feel like losing himself. He had already lost himself in that cave in Afghanistan, when he built the first Iron Man suit. But Pepper, she made him feel whole again and he just doesn't think he could stand the empty feeling if he were to lose her.

But the anxiety plagues him just as bad as the nightmares with the nausea, the constant need to have an emotional melt-down, and the constant feeling in the back of his mind that his entire life is falling apart. He's only found one way around this feeling and it's to work. Just work. And it is for this reason that he is sitting at the dining room table, Dum-E's dismantled robotic claw spread out on more paper towels than is probably environmentally friendly. His tools are spread out on the table and the robot's arm is patiently waiting in the corner for the inevitable reattachment of the claw. He feels better when he's working. It takes his mind off of things.

The abhorrent thoughts of his life destructing like the Iron Man Suits, death, and losing Pepper ebb away. His stomach settles its painful churn, easing the nausea but the tears remain in his eyes. He's still working on his emotions, working through the pain and the bitterness and the regret.

It'll take time.

It's not a process he can speed up. It's not a car.

_"Natasha Romanoff at the door, sir." _

"Let her in, J." Tony sighs, rolling his tense shoulders. It's pointless to have Jarvis get rid of her. She won't leave. Natasha Romanoff is notoriously stubborn and would just camp out, outside of his door until he decided to give in and let her in. She appears in the doorway of the dining room, glock strapped around her thigh, and her arms crossed over her chest. He greets her with a lazy lift of his hand and a half-hearted mutter of her name; "Agent Romanoff."

"Stark."

"No catsuit, today?" The question hangs above the crackling electricity of the wires he's deftly clipping and capping. "I can assume, you aren't here to bring me in or injure me in some way."

A roll of her olive eyes answers his question, even as her voice spills reluctantly and somewhat timidly - which he finds slightly odd, as she had spoken quite freely and boldly during the Ivan Vanko debacle; "Fury asked me to check up on you."

"Still kicking."

Natasha's lips quirk upward in a half-smile of amusement. His attempt at humor was lame, yes, but effective. She knows what he's trying to do and she lets him do it, because it's their way of communicating, especially when their friendship, or working relationship, was severely lacking in the trust department. His lame attempts at humor are false - she happens to know he's damn funny when he wants to be - but it gives them a reason to smile around each other and opens them up.

"Pepper will be glad to hear you haven't killed yourself, yet." Natasha grins teasingly, gauging his reaction carefully.

To her surprise, he laughs freely and openly. His eyes twinkle with that same michief she had seen in them when she had played the undercover role of his personal assistant and a genuine smile curls his lips upward. It's not exactly the reaction she was expecting, not that she ever knows what to expect from him, but it's better than nothing. He's the happiest she's seen him since they met - at which time, he was dying and very bitter, with good reason, of course.

"She'll want to kill me herself, for making this mess." He retorts lightly, wiping his hands on a faded red mechanic rag.

"Well, you are good at making messes and leaving them for someone else to clean up." Natasha shrugs, tilting back onto her heels.

His light, playful, engaging disposition darkens and tears glitter, glassy and clear, in his chocolate eyes. He clenches his hands repeatedly, fisting the red cloth in his palm and releasing it, until it's crumpled and wrinkled. The chair scrapes the tile when he stands up and stalks around the table, brushing past her roughly on his way out of the dining room. She only just hears his harshly mumbled words when he passes; "Go back to SHIELD, Romanoff."

"Stark!"

She refuses to let him walk away from this. Spoiled billionaire and Iron Man, though he may be, she will not let him brush her off in such a crude manner. She wants answers and she will get them, if she has to tie him to a chair and leave him there until he decides to stop acting like a brat, or until Pepper comes home, reprimands him for his behavior and sends him to bed with his medication. Either way, he will answer for his behavior.

"Where were you, then?" His voice is pure acid; bubbling and simmering in a couldron of anger, he's clearly been brewing for quite some time. "Where were you when Killian made a mess of my life? Not just my life, Pepper's too. Where were you?"

"We didn't know - "

"You didn't know?" Tony cuts her off sharply, skepticism clear in his voice. "Why didn't you? SHIELD knows everything, unless I'm in trouble, then they know nothing."

"Killian wasn't on our radar as a threat." Natasha tries to placate him. "For all we knew, he was dead."

"He wasn't." Tony spits venomously.

"And we know that now. You know that now." Natasha keeps her voice level and calm, because if there's one thing she hates more than a pissed off Bruce Banner, it's a pissed off Tony Stark. "You have to understand, Stark, we can't detect every threat. And, in case you're forgetting, you challenged the Mandarin. You brought him here. And you expected SHIELD to protect you?"

"I didn't expect protection, Agent Romanoff." Tony mocks her bitterly, drawling her name out in a way that makes her uncomfortable; makes her squirm. "I expected that SHIELD would protect the earth, like with New York...like with Loki."

"Stark - "

"You know what, you can go back to SHIELD, and you can tell Fury that I'm fine." Tony sneers dangerously, glaring at her coldly. "I was fine without him before the Avengers and I can damn well make it on my own without him now."

It's only when he turns his back to her, does she bother to speak again. The broken robot giving her what she needs to make him understand that she is his friend. She wants - no, needs - him to understand that she is not the enemy. That she will fight the enemy with him, or for him, if he needs her. She needs him to understand that the Avengers will rally around him whenever he needs them. "You build a family out of machines, out of wires and metal, because they won't hurt you." She watches him tense, fists clenching repeatedly at his sides. "You wanted a family, that's why you built them, right? But now, now that you have a family, you run."

"I'm not running."

"Then, what are you doing?" Natasha questions gently. "Protecting yourself?"

Tony spins on his heel, his mouth opening in response, only to close when he realizes he doesn't have one. He was protecting himself. He's blaming the Avengers for not being there when in truth, they're the only ones who had been there, after the Mandarin. What happened between him and Aldrich Killian had been personal and he would have been putting the Avengers at risk by asking for their help. Killian would have killed them all, just watch him suffer.

"I know. I know it's not your fault." Tony finally admits, hanging his head in shame. "What happened with Killian was personal. Asking for your help would have been asking you to sign your own death warrants."

"We do that with every mission." Natasha shrugs.

"Killian would have killed you all, just to watch me suffer." Tony scrubs his eyes and schools his features into a stony expression. "I rejected him and in return, he wanted me to feel that same desparation, that same suffering that he felt before Extremis."

"Tell me?" Natasha asks him quietly, looking up at him. "Bruce, Steve, even Clint, they all know. I don't. Tell me?"

"Agent Romanoff - "

"Natasha." Natasha corrects him, approaching carefully. "I'm not the enemy, Stark. I'm your friend. I fought the same battle you did. Tell me what happened?"

Twenty minutes and two mugs freshly percolated coffee later, she sits at his kitchen table watching him work and handing him the appropriate tool when he asks, while he spills his guts. It's the first moment of real friendship they've had since they met. Since she played him like a fiddle. He tells her everything, about that night in Switzerland, about Aldrich Killian and his reckless science, and about how he tortured Pepper with Extremis. He tells her about Pepper's fall and about her defeating Killian. The tears pour down his face, the coffee grows cold, and Natasha is vowing murder on anyone who would dare mess with Tony and Pepper. She knows how close Pepper is to Tony, how much he needs her, and it pains Natasha in a way to think of how someone had tried to take that from him.

She's endured torture that sounded less painful than what he had gone through.

When he's through with his story, when he's through reliving the pain and the misery, it's not what she says, but what she doesn't say. She doesn't offer some lame apology or try to comfort him in some awkward way, or basically be what he doesn't need. She just hands him another tool and asks him what he's doing to the robot.

And, when Pepper comes home, she'll join them.

There will be comfortable clothes, ice cream, and wine for all three of them. And they'll sit at the table laughing and talking well into the night because it makes Tony feel better and it makes Pepper happy to see him laughing again. The camaraderie that exists between them is strengthened and they finally feel like they've made friends in each other.

Because, Tony and Natasha had given each other what they both needed more than anything.

Friendship.

Just friendship.

* * *

**I sit at my kitchen counter/island thing, sick with a nasty cold, and presenting to you...this. Whatever it is. I love the ending though. I liked the idea of Natasha finally become a real friend, because it was obvious they didn't trust each other. I wanted her to not necessarily break him, but just kind of manipulate him in a way that would help him open up to her, but as I said, I'm sick so who the hell knows if that's what I really did. Anyway, I hope you like this either way. **

**Love ya, **

**RobertDowneyJrLove**


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